Michael (The Airel Saga, Book 2) - By Aaron Patterson Page 0,12
more like them, these three, but they were an ancient kind and rarely beheld. In the earliest days under the sun, when the Master—the great Leader—had procured the Dominion, these three had a different appearance. They were once tall, strong, robust, even beautiful. Now they, as well as all the others of their kind, were shriveled, encrusted with a growth of filth and fungus. Open pustules spewed forth clouds of black spores from their once beautiful skin, now threatening contagion wherever they went. Milky pus glided across the deep crevices of their hides, and they moved as if they were diseased, as if they were puppets on strings, jerking and spastic and shaky.
But they were fast. Dangerous. Deceptive. And as they stood before the Master, the Leader, they understood what mission he had conceived for them. As always, there would be at least two objectives: one that was disclosed…in a fashion…and another that the Leader kept to himself. In a kingdom populated by usurpers, command was executed ruthlessly, because it was true that a kingdom divided against itself could not stand. None dared to contradict what was understood in this room: the seat of all deception; the antithrone of Self.
The room was a clean space. Pure white. But it was all mockery; it was empty and plunged at all times in deepest hollow blackness. For that was the essence of clean: blankness. Up was down, right was wrong. And hatred was righteousness.
The three now stood taller, having imbibed the desires of the Leader. They knew. The thought-language was pre-Babylonic, very clean, direct. In one unarticulated thought they understood numberless ideas about the girl, the Immortal, the one who had wielded the Sword…and the one who had betrayed the Seer. They understood death. And how to use it.
They were gone.
CHAPTER VII
MICHAEL FOUND KIM ALONE near sunrise in the massive ballroom. She was looking out of the ornate windows under the waterfall. The moon hung in the sky obscured by haze, giving it a halo. Angels were on his mind.
“Kim,” he called out from a good distance away. Still, she jumped—even though he had tried to give her fair warning. “Sorry.”
“You say that a lot.”
“Hmm,” he said. “Sorry.”
She rolled her eyes.
“How are you? Bruises healing up all right?” he asked.
“Yeah. I guess so. And look who’s Mr. Dad all of a sudden.”
Michael considered asking himself what he did to deserve this. And then he thought better of it. “You look like you’re deep in thought.”
“Yeah. Go figure. The ditz has a brain.”
“We missed you earlier. In the library.”
“No you didn’t.”
“Okay,” He actually blushed.
It was quiet for a moment, and Michael looked out the window to the valley below. It was beautiful. The grasses were black, but the mind made them green somehow, a mixing of nerve impulses and memory; a sense of what was right and orderly in the world.
“I grew up being taught that the Sons of God were to be banished from the earth,” he said. “El gave the earth to the Brotherhood, not the Sons of God. The reason was never important. It was just how it worked.”
“Where’d you find that verse? First Book of Crap, chapter one? Hello—Michael: God didn’t give the earth to anyone but Mankind. Then Adam and Eve chose to give it away in the Garden, and all of us got to inherit that. It’s Sunday School 101, dude.”
He couldn’t help but be shocked. “Wow, Kim.”
“Yeah, I know,” she said, turning back to the scene below. “You weren’t expecting me to be smart, right?”
“Kim. Is it just an act?”
“Don’t start on me, dude. I am who I have to be in order to fit in. But I have a brain. I can figure things out.” She looked down, regret written on her face. “I just can’t believe I never figured you and James out.” She took a breath. “Airel is more delicate than you know. You need to be careful with her. She overthinks everything. I know her. I know her a lot better than you do.”
“Okay, truce.” He held up his hands.
She smirked. “So. Be careful with my friend, dude.” Her eyes took on a sparkle. “And try not to get her killed again, okay?”
Michael shook his head. “Only if everyone will stop cracking death jokes.”
“Deal.”
“Deal.”
“All right, Mr. Recovering Satan-oholic. If that’s what you call yourself. Tell me more about where we’re at and where we’re going. I’ll get behind you if you have a good enough plan. Otherwise I’m taking Airel out of